"System #2," Riri said, turning back toward the center of the room. "Show me your full capabilities. Everything."
The gold interface expanded, text streaming across her vision in elegant script.
[System #2: Creation & Luck Protocol]
[Primary Directive: Ensure Host experiences luxury, ease, and overwhelming advantage in all scenarios.]
[Passive Buffs:]
Stat Points per Level: 15 (Standard: 5)All Rewards: Tripled automaticallyBase Luck Stat: +25 (Permanent)Inventory Slots: 12 (Expandable)Shop Access: Premium Tier (Luxury items, rare consumables, SSS-Rank equipment available for purchase)]
[Active Features:]
Daily Quest Generation (Tailored to Host preferences)Lottery Wheel (Guaranteed minimum S-Rank rewards)Emergency Assistance Protocol (Activates during life-threatening scenarios)Personalized Mission Selection (Host may preview available Gates before entry)
Riri scanned the list twice, her editor brain cataloging every advantage. Fifteen stat points per level meant she'd grow three times faster than normal Players. Triple rewards turned every dungeon clear into a jackpot. And that Luck stat—
She'd read enough LitRPG garbage to know Luck was either useless or completely broken depending on the writer's mood. In this world, it affected critical hits, loot drops, and those "convenient accidents" that kept protagonists alive.
"Your primary directive," she said slowly, "is to give me an easy life."
[Correct! This unit believes Host deserves comfort, safety, and beautiful things. Unlike that brute System #1, we prioritize elegance over efficiency.]
The jab at System #1 didn't escape her notice. She filed it away.
"So you're basically..." Riri paused, searching for the right comparison. "A sugar daddy gacha game."
[...Host's phrasing is crude but functionally accurate. Now! Shall we begin your preparation? This unit has generated your first quest!]
A new notification bloomed in her vision, this one bordered in swirling gold filigree.
[Daily Quest: Morning Routine]
[Objective: Complete 10 minutes of stretching exercises]
[Reward: Luxury Lottery Ticket (Guaranteed S-Rank or higher) + 100 Stat Points]
[Time Limit: 1 hour]
[Accept? Y/N]
Riri stared at the screen. One hundred stat points. For stretching. The average Player got five points per level—meaning this single quest was worth twenty levels of grinding.
And a guaranteed S-Rank lottery pull on top of it.
She thought about the novel's protagonist, Marty, who'd spent his first week doing pushups for three stat points per quest. Thought about all the NPCs who'd be clawing through Training Dungeons for scraps of experience.
"This is disgusting," she muttered.
[This unit prefers the term 'generous'! Does Host accept?]
Her finger hovered over the mental trigger for "Yes."
She was inside a death game. Fairness was a joke. And if System #2 wanted to hand her god-tier advantages on a silver platter, she'd be an idiot to refuse out of some misplaced sense of honor.
Riri pressed "Yes."
[Quest Accepted! Please begin whenever Host is ready. A timer will appear once stretching is detected. Good luck! ♡]
The heart symbol made her eye twitch.
She shrugged off the leather jacket, letting it pool on the marble floor, and rolled her shoulders experimentally. Her new body moved differently—lighter, more flexible, like someone had replaced her joints with ball bearings.
Fine. Ten minutes of stretching for a lottery ticket that could change everything.
She dropped into a lunge.
The timer started counting down.
Riri sank deeper into the stretch, feeling the pull in her thighs—sharper than it should've been, like her muscles were made of glass instead of fiber.
"Wait," she said, holding the position. "Why am I getting a hundred stat points for stretching?"
The timer paused.
[Excellent question, Host! This unit must inform you: your current physical vessel is... suboptimal.]
"Suboptimal."
[To be frank: Riri Lee's original body was severely neglected. The previous host prioritized aesthetic maintenance over functional strength. Your base stats are currently below standard human averages.]
A chill crawled down her spine that had nothing to do with the air conditioning.
"Show me."
The interface shifted, pulling up a translucent status window.
[Host Status: Riri Lee]
[Level: 1]
[Class: Locked]
[Stats:]
Strength: 3(Human Average: 10)Agility: 6(Human Average: 10)Constitution: 4(Human Average: 10)Intelligence: 14(Human Average: 10)Wisdom: 12(Human Average: 10)Luck: 25(Human Average: 5)Charisma: 18(Human Average: 10)
[Combat Power: 87]
[HP: 40/40]
[MP: 120/120]
Riri's arms trembled. She shifted out of the lunge, staring at the numbers like they might rearrange themselves into something less catastrophic.
Strength: 3. A three. She'd seen toddlers with better grip strength.
Constitution: 4. Meaning she had forty hit points. Forty. The tutorial slimes in Training Dungeons dealt fifteen damage per hit. She could tank exactly two attacks before dying.
"I'm made of tissue paper," she said flatly.
[This unit prefers 'delicate'! But yes, Host's durability is... concerning. The previous Riri Lee was beautiful but tragically fragile. This body requires significant reinforcement before entering combat scenarios.]
[Hence: the generous starter quest! 100 stat points will bring you to functional baseline. This unit refuses to send Host into danger while she possesses the structural integrity of a porcelain doll.]
Riri looked down at her hands—slim fingers, pale skin smooth as lacquer, no calluses. The kind of hands that had never lifted anything heavier than a credit chip. She curled them into fists experimentally. They felt like they might shatter.
The irony wasn't lost on her. She looked like every male lead's fantasy: the fragile beauty who needed protecting. Except in this world, "fragile" wasn't romantic. It was a death sentence.
She dropped back into her stretching routine, this time with grim focus. The timer resumed.
[8 minutes, 32 seconds remaining!]
Her hamstrings burned. Her lower back protested. Every movement reminded her that this body had been decorative, not functional—a museum piece that someone had shoved into tactical gear and expected to survive.
"So basically," Riri said through gritted teeth as she folded into a seated stretch, "I'm a max-level character with starter stats."
[...That is unfortunately accurate.]
"Fantastic." She switched sides, feeling the tendons pull. "Nothing says 'easy second life' like having the physical prowess of wet cardboard."
[This unit will fix it! Trust the process, Host! ♡]
The heart symbol felt like mockery.
But she kept stretching.
The marble was cold against her palms as she shifted into a forward fold, feeling the pull radiate up the back of her legs. Her body responded differently than she expected—too flexible in some places, too stiff in others. Like the original Riri had done yoga for aesthetics but never pushed hard enough to build real strength.
She rolled her neck, hearing the soft pop of vertebrae settling. The movement sent her hair sliding forward, that impossible curtain of black silk pooling on the floor around her hands. It smelled faintly of something expensive—vanilla and sandalwood, the kind of shampoo that cost more than her old rent.
Focus.
[6 minutes, 18 seconds remaining!]
Riri dropped into a side plunge, bracing her weight on her right leg. The muscles in her inner thigh screamed immediately—a sharp, bright pain that said this body had never done anything more strenuous than walking from the bed to the bathroom.
Her breathing came faster. Not from exertion, exactly, but from the strangeness of it all. Her lungs felt smaller. Her ribs seemed to compress differently. Even the way her heartbeat pulsed in her ears was unfamiliar, like someone had replaced the drum with something lighter, more fragile.
She switched sides, feeling the floor beneath her palms—smooth, flawless, expensive. The kind of surface that didn't forgive falls. Her reflection stared back at her from the windows, distorted by the angle: a tiny figure in oversized tactical gear, all delicate limbs and too-long hair, looking like she was rehearsing for a photoshoot instead of trying to survive.
The absurdity of it hit her again. I look like bait.
[3 minutes, 54 seconds remaining!]
She moved through a cat-cow stretch, arching her spine and feeling each vertebra shift. Her back was tight, locked up from however long the original Riri had been unconscious on this floor. The leather crop jacket lay crumpled nearby, one sleeve twisted inside-out.
Her arms shook as she held the pose. Not from effort—the stretch itself was easy. But from the realization that her Strength stat of 3 meant these arms couldn't lift much more than their own weight. Couldn't pull herself up. Couldn't hold a weapon steady. Couldn't do anything useful in a fight except get in the way.
She exhaled slowly, letting her forehead rest against the marble.
One hundred stat points.
That would change things. That would make her functional. Not strong, maybe, but at least human.
[1 minute, 12 seconds remaining!]
Riri pushed herself into a final seated twist, feeling the stretch pull through her obliques and lower back. Her tactical pants were too loose at the waist, cinched tight with a belt that had two extra holes punched in it. The boots were at least a size too big, stuffed with insoles to make them fit.
Everything about this body screamed decorative. A pretty trophy that someone had dressed up and forgotten about.
She held the twist, counting her breaths. Ten. Nine. Eight.
The timer ticked down in the corner of her vision.
Three. Two. One.
[DING!]
The notification exploded across her vision in a cascade of gold particles.
[Quest Complete: Morning Routine]
[Rewards Obtained:]
Luxury Lottery Ticket (S-Rank Minimum) x1Stat Points: +100
[Congratulations, Host! Please allocate your stat points at your convenience. This unit recommends prioritizing Constitution and Strength to address your... delicate constitution. ♡]
Riri sat back on her heels, watching the numbers appear in her peripheral vision. One hundred unallocated stat points, glowing like liquid gold, waiting to be distributed.
She pulled up her status window with a thought.
[Host Status: Riri Lee]
[Level: 1]
[Unallocated Stat Points: 100]
[Current Stats:]
Strength: 3Agility: 6Constitution: 4Intelligence: 14Wisdom: 12Luck: 25Charisma: 18
Her fingers hovered in the air, ready to make the mental selection.
Time to stop being made of wet cardboard.